


The Lost Souls Trapped in This Circle

by AmateurScribes



Series: Whumptober 2019 [18]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Corpses, Gen, Graphic Description, Muffled Screams, Murder, Prompt Fic, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-23 21:22:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21088040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmateurScribes/pseuds/AmateurScribes
Summary: Temple's had years to fantasize about his perfect revenge plot, knowing that he wouldn't be able to have it exactly as he wanted it.Until he's given the perfect chance to do so.





	The Lost Souls Trapped in This Circle

**Author's Note:**

> Cutting it a bit close with this one, I got caught up in having to stay in a lab studio for this project. Ended up taking four hours. I am very, very tired.
> 
> For the duration of this event, all mistakes are my own.

Everything that Temple's ever done since  _ that _ day was for revenge. He wanted to make everyone involved in Project Freelancer pay- he wanted to make them  _ all _ pay.

But he wanted Carolina to feel his pain most of all.

That's it- that's all he wants. He wants Carolina to cry out in anguish just like he had, and while he would love to physically cause her pain, he's not an idiot. He knows that there's no way in  _ hell _ that he would ever be able to overtake a Freelancer, especially not one who was so high on the leader board.

Which is why he gets Loco to create him an armor lock weapon.

It's fantastic- he's able to lead in as many not-yet-dead Freelancers as he wants, and he doesn't even have to lift a finger against them. All he has to do is press a button and wait.

But it's not perfect.

He feels like he's missing something- the final piece to his puzzle of vengeance.

Temple was never physically hurt by Carolina- sure, she pushed him to the ground once- what really pained him deeply was, well-

The death of Biff.

That's the pain that he felt strangle his heart, that's what the lying root to all of his problems- the whole  _ reason _ that he was forced to go down this path- was about.

And he could never replicate that, there'd be no opportunity for him to capture someone that she cared deeply about- if the cold-hearted bitch even  _ cared _ about anyone, he highly doubted that however.

At least, that  _ was _ what he thought.

But it's  _ funny _ how luck favors the slighted.

"I'm encouraging you to scream," Temple smiled at the currently frozen soldier, just as every bit trapped as the other corpses in his trophy room. "No one will hear you and, well, it'll bring  _ me _ a lot of joy."

"You're a fucking maniac," the orange soldier informed him.

"No," he put the remote away, no longer needing it. "No, I am not."

"Then what do you fucking call this?" his prisoner asked.

"Poetic justice," he shrugged, turning around to leave the room. "I'll visit you daily, just to see if you've died yet."

He could hear the signs of the other SIM struggling trying to break free somehow of the permanent hold on his body.

And as he got into the elevator leading up and away, he could hear the loud but muffled screams for help. 

The smile that tugged on his lips was rather contagious, not leaving his face for the rest of the week.

* * *

He checked in to see how the other man was doing almost constantly, making a visit once a day at the very least.

Surprisingly, he was doing well, having not died after three days was impressive after all.

Perhaps he hadn't starved to death because of all that body fat, but as for how he hadn't died of thirst or sleep deprivation was still a mystery to Temple.

But he could tell that the other man was nearing death soon, he had stopped talking not too long ago after all.

"Good morning," Temple greeted to the silent man.

He, of course, didn't expect a response, so he walked over to the man to check if he was a corpse yet or if he was getting close to being one.

Reaching out towards his neck, he felt for a pulse and felt the very faint palpitations of his heart beat.

Oh, this man was certainly going to die, whether today or tomorrow. 

And just in time too, they had finally collected the Reds and Blues.

Which meant that the Freelancers were within reach.

_ Soon. _

Temple didn't know what the man looked like- afraid that he would resemble Biff too much- but his curiosity had grown steadily over the past few days, and this is what prompted him to reach up and pull off his helmet.

After unlatching it, he tossed it away from him, and he watched as the orange soldier’s head fell to his chest, unable to hold it up in his weakness. Dark, twisted hair swayed with the pull of gravity, creating a curtain that hid his face.

But reaching out with his hand, he gripped the man's chin with his thumb and pointer finger, forcing the man to look up.

The Reds eyes were lifeless, seeing right through him. The black bruises underneath his eyes were proof enough that he had tried staying awake so as to not fall asleep and never wake up, but now it left him practically a puppet.

Letting go of the other man, his head bobbing down immediately, Temple didn't attempt to put back on the helmet.

No, it would be much better if his face- all bruised and taut, lips cracked from dehydration, and very clearly a dead body in say, oh, a couple more hours- was on display.

He'd be the crowning achievement of this whole room once properly dead.

Sure, he'd still need to be propped up, but that didn't change the fact that this would be the centerpiece of his revenge.

So he left the room, getting ready to act a whole new character when faced with those troublesome SIM's.

The next day, he brought Gene with him.

Walking up to the dead body, he clicked his remote to release the holds on it, letting it fall to the ground.

Then, he dragged it to a specified part of the wall that he had cleared just for this man.

He turned away for the following part, watching with subdued pleasure as Gene approached holding a very familiar wooden pike, a thick nail screwed into the end of it.

And since he couldn't see, he didn't grimace at the sound of the body getting impaled and embedded into the wall. But he could hear the squelch of flesh tearing and blood gushing out of it.

Temple didn't like the sight of blood, and he especially didn't want to see a hauntingly familiar image.

No, that was for Carolina to see, not him.

Part of him did feel bad for causing the death of another orange SIM. A small betrayal of sorts.

But it was the greater good. Biff would forgive him for that.

And so when the time came, when he finally stood in the same room as the woman who had ruined his life all those years ago, he could hardly contain his excitement.

It took everything in his willpower to not drag them down to his trophy room the second they stepped foot in the base. 

But everything had to be perfect, so he would hold himself back until the right moment.

When he finally got them down there, hellish lights tainting the room with red, he watched as they stood in horror at the sight of all their friends.

"But that's not even the best part," he proclaimed, sticking to the edges of the curved room. "You haven't even asked what's behind the curtain yet!"

"Another dead body," Carolina growled, readying her fists.

"Well, before I show you- care for a game of  _ freeze _ tag?" he asked as he clicked the button on the remote. He delighted in the sounds of their surprise and horror. "That's much better."

Gripping tightly onto the grey and matted curtain, he smiled maniacally as he asked, "I want you to make a guess- come on, it's not like you have anything better to do."

"It's like she said," Washington bit. "Another dead body, right?"

"Well, duh," he rolled his eyes. "But I want you to guess  _ who? _ My money is that you'll never figure it out." 

"Another Freelancer?" Carolina hissed, hatred accented by the pose that she was currently stuck in.

"Now even close!" he barked out a harsh laugh. "Want to try again?"

"Just show us already, asshole," Washington stated, calm but Temple knew how quickly Freelancers were to lose their temper. "Enough with the taunting."

"But where's the fun in that?" he asked, reaching back slowly with his fist nonetheless. "Well, you did ask for it."

Ripping the curtain away, he stood in pride as he waited for the reactions of the corpse pinned to the wall.

_ "NO-" _ Carolina yelled, and giving the sound of her grunting, he figured that she was trying to escape.

"That's not possible, how- when-" Washington floundered, in pure disbelief.

"I'm going to rip your head right off your body," Carolina swore. "I'm going to make you wish that you were never born. You're going to regret this-"

"It's funny how you don't see the irony in all this," he stated, recognizing the sentiments all too well. "Don't tell me that you don't recognize the familiarity of this sight?"

"You  _ bastard-" _ she struggled further. Washington had gone silent.

Then, breaking the moderate silence, Carolina yelled, guttural and filled with detest as she fought desperately against her bindings- against the armor that was supposed to protect her not kill her.

Standing in front of the corpse of one Captain Grif, Temple felt like he had finally gotten what he wanted for years. 

He could  _ feel _ the pain and loathing radiating off of Carolina, as her screams were muffled by her helmet and the thick cement walls of the underground cemetery.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea in my head for such a long time, and after checking to see if I've done this before, I was pleasantly surprised to see that I hadn't claimed it yet. So I jumped on the chance to finally write it out after all these years!
> 
> If you'd like to contact me, you can find me at either of my Tumbr's: @agent-murica (main) and @amateurscibes (writing)!


End file.
